As soon as the door clicks shut behind her, I have her in my arms, my hands in her hair. I kiss her hard, and she whimpers against me, her arms tightening around my neck as I consume her.

Her lips are faintly salty, like she's been crying. That rips me up inside. I did this to her.

She kisses me back as we desperately hold on to each other. It's a long time before we break apart. Her lips are swollen and wet. My chest aches. We're a mess, and I'm more settled than I've been in hours. I never want to let her out of my arms.

"I'm glad you're not in jail," she whispers, hugging me tight for a second before pressing her hands against my chest.

I don't let her go. "You shouldn't be here," I mutter against her lips. "Someone might see you."

"I drove and parked underground. I needed to tell you that I'll talk to the cops."

"No."

"Yeah, I heard you say that to the other guys." Her body tightens inside my arms as she says it.

"You heard some s.h.i.t out of context."

She sighs. "I'm not sure there's enough context to make me understand your life."

What the f.u.c.k? "It's not my life, it's my job."

Another sigh. She tips her forehead against my shoulder. "No, what I do is a job. Working at McDonald's is a job. Leaving my bed in the middle of the night and getting arrested for murder...that has to be more than a job or you shouldn't do it."

That had been the wrong word choice, but I can't explain the difference to her. I focus on what I can say. "I didn't want to leave your bed."

She tenses again, pressing her hands against my chest. Trying to push me way. Not going to f.u.c.king happen. I lean into her, over her, moving her back the few inches until she's pressed against my door. I grab her hands and press her arms over her head. She glares up at me as I dip my head to kiss her again.

"What? You don't believe me?"

She gapes at me for a moment. "I don't know what to believe," she finally says, her voice strangled.

f.u.c.k.

I'm not going to hold her against the door-kiss her, f.u.c.k her, make her scream-if she doesn't trust me.

I drop her hands and take a giant step back, my brain scrambling to catch up to the strange feelings coursing through me-possession and fear, yes, but also something else.

Something dangerous. Something I can't name.

-three-.

Hailey.

Cole steps back from me, his expression shuttered and his body tense.

I've made a misstep, I can sense it in the air.

I go for a flippant response, even though it feels wrong as I say it.

"You know, for someone who's become famous for being able to talk rich people out of almost any kind of trouble, you're not doing a good job of it for yourself." I wave my hand at his face. "Pull your s.h.i.t together, Cole."

Like a cat, he moves fast and without warning. He grabs my waving wrist again, and we stand there. Me, in shock, him...I'm not sure. He takes another step back into my personal s.p.a.ce, and his other hand slides around my hip, twisting me until my front is pressed against the door. It's not a slam, per se, because it doesn't hurt, but he's holding me there. I suck in a breath and hold it, not sure what the h.e.l.l is going on. I'm not scared, but I'm something. Full of feels, Alison would say.

"I'll pull my s.h.i.t together before we leave this office." He spits the words out between gritted teeth, and it should be off-putting, this ridiculous testosterone dump. It is off-putting to my head. Much lower in my body, I'm consumed by a strange sensation to arch into him and make him feel better.

I start laughing at the absurdity of the notion that s.e.x would help. He'd been arrested. Lawyers make that better, not f.u.c.king. I sigh and twist my head to catch his gaze. "What are you doing? Why did you drag me back here?"

"Stop talking, Hailey." A thrill runs through me at the sound of my name on his tongue and the look in his eye. He loosens his grip, leaning his forearm on the door next to my head, his fingers just loosely circling my arm now. His thumb rubs back and forth over the pulse point on the inside of my wrist, making my skin tingle in a strangely soothing way. "I'm not doing anything."

I let out the breath I was holding, and it rattles between us in a shaky exhale. "Then...maybe you should let me go." I pull my hand free from his grasp and turn to face him. I press my palm against his chest. Even vibrating with tension, touching him feels good. Right. Even as I shove against him, pushing him out of my way, I relish the contact. He lets me shift him out of the way. "Whatever is on your mind...just say it."

He turns his back to me, staring intently at something on his desk. "Now's not the time."

I glare at his rigid spine until my eyes burn, which doesn't take long, then I glance down. There's a big coffee stain on his carpet, I notice randomly. He should have that steam-cleaned.

Three deep breaths, and I look up. He's turned back, and whatever that little outburst was all about seems locked down again. Maybe. Barely.

We stare at each other for a minute. I should tell him more. Tell him that I know he's a good man, deep down, and that I trust him.

But I'm not sure I do. The fear inside me is a sharp, stabbing pain. It feels wrong to doubt him, but within hours of sleeping together, he dragged me perilously close to the edge of scandal.

Not on purpose. I close my eyes, not wanting to see how he clenches his jaw and guards his gaze as he takes in my silence.

From the second he saw me, I've known Cole is p.i.s.sed I'm here. But then he kissed me, and for a second I thought it might work out somehow.

"I didn't want to leave your bed," he repeats his earlier statement, his voice rough and raw.

My eyes snap open. "But you did."

"It's what I do. I fix s.h.i.t. Sometimes that means I leave in the middle of the night."

"And get arrested?"

He shrugs like it's no big deal.

I shrug right back, my eyes narrowing because it's totally a big deal. "Now I'm your alibi for last night, aren't I?"

He snaps to his full height and glares at me. "n.o.body needs to know that. I would never drag you into this s.h.i.t."

"You don't think anyone's going to find out you're sleeping with Morgan Reid's daughter? You think you're the only team who can hack into digital data streams?" My voice lifts as I wave my arm over my head in Wilson's general direction. "The cops-"

"Don't have the budget for someone like Wilson. And n.o.body else cares. We care because we want to find out who killed Anabeth Fletcher."

I close my eyes at the name of the poor woman who died.

"We weren't...She and I..." he trails off, and I stare at him, incredulous.

"Seriously? She's dead, Cole. I don't care if you f.u.c.ked her."

His eyes flare at that. "Really? I'd care if I heard on the news that you were having a secret affair with someone. That's the story that's being spun, right?"

I can't help it. My voice raises itself, and all of a sudden I'm yelling at him. "I'd never have a secret affair with someone, you a.s.shole! I date people, and only one at a time. I don't have affairs. I don't do anything illicit, or dirty, or wrong."

He doesn't even blink at me calling him an awful name, even though I already regret it. "Really, beautiful? Because last night you were all over me being your dirty little secret."

"That was a mistake."

He's across the room before the words fade into the air between us. He stops an inch short of slamming me against the door again. "Nothing about last night was a mistake," he grinds out. "And I'm not complaining about being your secret anything. I'm not sleeping with anyone else. Anything you see or hear, if it's true, belongs in the past."

"The recent past?"

"The past," he repeats, this time with emphasis. "Once we're not yelling at each other and I don't need to get back to work to solve a f.u.c.king murder, you can have as many details as your delicate little ears can handle."

That shuts me up, because no, I don't want details. Not now, not ever. I don't want the images of Cole and other women in my head. Multiple women at the same time. d.a.m.nit. It doesn't take much to poke the green-eyed monster inside me, and I don't have that right.

He drops his forearms against the door, bracketing me in place without touching me. He glares at me. "What we have, Hailey...it's different."

"We don't have anything," I whisper. Lies. My skin itches for him to touch me.

Like he knows what I need, he slides his hand around my neck and holds me in place as he presses his forehead to mine. "Would we? If everything was different? If you weren't innocent and light, and I wasn't darkness and-"

"I'm not as innocent as you think." And he's not as dark, either, but I don't care about that fight in the same way. "I can handle the truth. What happened last night?"

He shakes his head. "No. You don't need to know anything about that. You're not involved."

"You made me involved when you made me your alibi."

His hand tightens around my neck. "I didn't do that on purpose. I didn't know I'd be called out." His thumb traces a slow circle on the sensitive skin behind my neck. "I want to protect you, Hailey. If I had my way, you'd never know anything about the ugliness I see every day."

That's incredibly sweet, but Cole doesn't do sweet. And despite his good intentions, the impact is that my life has been flipped upside down, all because I slept with a crazy man. So there's only one thing to say. "That's stupid."

Another long, pregnant pause. "When it comes to you, I'm a stupid man."

I can't break his gaze. I don't want to. We're both spitting mad, but this connection between us still feels...good, somehow. Maybe because he's secretly sweet. Maybe because he's working that spot on my neck better than any man has ever worked my g-spot. My head is swimming and shivers ripple out across my skin from that slow, circling thumb.

But I'm not a stupid woman, no matter how much I want him, so I pile on another lie. "You might be swayed by the chemistry between us, but I'm not."

"Give me some time to fix this." There's a weird catch in Cole's voice, and for a second, I believe him. I want to believe him.

I press my lips together and try to calm my racing mind. "How?"

Instead of answering, he kisses me. Slower this time, his lips parting mine so softly it barely feels like anything. But in the absence of hard thrusts and greedy licks, something else forms. A bittersweet connection, wet and warm and fleeting.

He doesn't have an answer because there is no fixing what isn't broken. This isn't a temporary state for him. This is who he is.

We're incompatible. And this might be the last kiss we share.

Well, screw him.

Now is not the time for sweet. I never wanted sweet from Cole. I wanted real and honest, and if I can't get honest, at least our goodbye can be real.

I nip at his lower lip and he freezes, his breath hot against my mouth. I do it again. Come on.

"We always knew this wouldn't work." I ignore the catch in my throat. Sure, I thought we'd have a bit longer. But it would never be easy to let him go. This is for the best.

"Don't speak for me," he growls, dragging his lips up my cheek. I close my eyes and he kisses my eyelid, then my nose, then my lips again. "You're deep inside me, Hailey. That's all I know. And this scandal will fade away, replaced by something else. And you'll still be inside me."

Oh G.o.d. His words blast through my defenses and I scramble to recover. I shake my head, going on the offense. "I can't. It's too much." I wind my arms around his neck, bringing his lips back to mine. "Thank you for last night," I whisper against his skin, all out of lies. "And I'm so, so glad you're not in jail."

He kisses me again. More sweet. Tears p.r.i.c.k at my eyelids.

"Stop kissing me like that," I hiss. I can't leave him like this. I already doubt this move and I'm not even out the door.

He tightens his arms around me-a steely embrace I've never experienced before, and will never again. It's such a cliche that he's ruined me for other men, but right now it feels painfully, brutally true.

He drops his face to my neck, his next words m.u.f.fled and quiet. "I'm not going to play the bad man for you now."

"It's not...I'm not asking..." But I am. I'm asking him to play a role that will allow me to walk away without guilt or worry.

Still more lies, but at least that one is just to myself. I'll always worry about him. He's a lunatic with a death wish, and I care about him despite myself. But I need to be done with this.

I nod silently and hold him tight for a minute, kissing his hair. He hasn't showered yet, and he smells like himself. Stripped bare. Vulnerable. And suddenly, I can't let go. I squeeze him even harder, and he groans against my neck.

"No," I whisper, the tears so close to falling again. "No. Don't be stupid. Let me tell the police you were with me."

"I can't." His response is immediate. Without hesitation. "I know you don't understand." He swears under his breath, a harsh combination that sounds like f.u.c.kthiss.h.i.t. "I don't need saving, Hailey. This is just a regular day at the office for me."

I nod again, but this time I don't say anything. I'm out of words that might work.

"Come here." His voice is still soft, and rough, but there's an edge there, a command. Old Cole. Before-we-f.u.c.ked Cole. I slowly peel myself off him as he rubs his thumb along my jaw, tilting my head so we're staring each other in the eye. "Last night wasn't a mistake."

My breath hitches in my throat.

"Tag is going to follow you home."

I nod.

"And we're not f.u.c.king done."

I shake my head, and his nostrils flare for a second before he crashes his lips against mine. I give him as good as I'm getting, swallowing his rage. Yes. I want him to sear my soul, to mark me with a hate I can handle. I dig my fingers into his back as he thrusts his tongue against mine, instantly making me wet.

I'm awful for wanting him right now.